


Need Someone to Feel Someone

by Dresupi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cat Loki, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Poly, Rating May Change, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your timer counts down, you meet your soulmate and then you're supposed to live happily ever after.  That's how the story goes.  Right?  </p><p>Well, unless you're Darcy Lewis, that is.  </p><p>Between dormant-turned-decidedly-NOT-DORMANT timers, a coffee house, two absolutely wonderful guys, more well-meaning friends than you can shake a stick at, AND a burning hatred for love triangles...the uncomplicated process of meeting a soulmate becomes anything but.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Red to Swill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyaya/gifts).



> I had FUN coming up with this one. My first real foray into the soulmates universe. :D 
> 
> And it's for ladyaya! YAY! She won a fic giveaway on my tumblr a while back and she's been so patient waiting for me to finish this up. :) 
> 
> Both the fic and the chapter titles are from the song "Purple Sneakers" by You Am I (a band recced to me by the lovely ozhawk) Link to the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ni4DHoNmnsI).

It wasn't any kind of unusual morning.  The sun was shining brightly.  The birds were chirping. 

Darcy Lewis smacked her alarm clock with a groan.  She'd already hit the snooze button more times than should be allowed.  And she'd already wasted almost an hour of her getting-ready time.  She was going to be able to take a quick shower and that was IT if she was getting to work in time to make the pastries for the morning rush.   

Loki, her cat, curled around her ankles as she stood up, stretching and walking out to the kitchen.  Meowing in the sickly sweet way he had when he was hungry. 

"I know, I know..." she grumbled, scratching absently at her wrist.  She checked her timer.  You know.  Just to make sure it hadn't started ticking or anything.  She'd checked it compulsively every single morning since she'd gotten it eleven years before.  Eleven years, three months and twenty-six days ago. 

"Still nada" she said aloud to Loki.  He blinked, looking utterly bored with her news. 

For a cat, he was kind of...well...unsurprisingly cat-like when it came to conversation.  In that he didn't care unless she was opening a can of his favorite cat food.  She pulled one down from the cabinet and opened it.  Enjoying the rarity that was Loki rubbing on her legs.  

He was good company though. Even with his ulterior motives.  Excellent company while she'd waited here in soulmate limbo. 

As it stood, she might never meet her soulmate.  A dormant timer was the most depressing and infuriating thing in the world.  It isolated a person.  Made them feel unlovable.  And at the same time, they were so riddled with anxiety that it was almost impossible to do anything with them.

Darcy liked to think she managed herself fairly well.  She’d had eleven years of practice.  Eleven years, three months and twenty-six days of practice.   

She spent most of her days working at Sister Margaret's.  A coffee house that she partially owned with two others.  Wade and Weasel.  Weasel's name was actually Jack, but he'd gone by Weasel for as long as she'd known him.  Which was a long ass time.  She'd met the two of them in college. Shortly after the “Ian debacle”.  Which was the cutesy term she coined for the most heartbreaking incident of her entire life.

She sighed.  Not what she needed to think about right then. There was no need to rehash the heartache of falling in love with a guy whose timer was already ticking.  It was pretty self-explanatory.   

She took a shower.  Standing for longer than was strictly necessary under the hot water.  So long that she was ten minutes late getting to the shop. 

Which would have been a big deal if Wade hadn't have gotten there on time for once in his life. 

Darcy had a sneaking suspicion that his punctuality had little to do with maturity and more to do with Vanessa, who was also opening with them.  Vanessa, who made Wade so incredibly happy that he didn’t mind coming to work on time.  And here was where an advertisement for the soulmate timers would go.  If either Wade or Vanessa had a timer, that is. 

They were timerless.  Both of them.  Wade had his removed and Vanessa never had one.  And yet somehow…they found each other.

Darcy sometimes wished she didn’t have one. 

Maybe if she didn’t, she could just settle down with Clint.  Clint, who was sweet and utterly adorable.  Clint, who treated her like a queen, even though she was completely and utterly selfish for dating him in the first place. Clint, who like Wade, had his timer removed. 

That was the growing trend among the millennials.  Remove the timer, or don’t get one at all.  Find your own soulmate. Screw the man, fuck the system.  Rage against the machine.  Okay, that is a band.  But, the idea is clear.   

But, truth be told, the thought of no timer scared her to death.  Call her old fashioned, but it was just easier knowing when you’d meet your soulmate.  There was less to think about.  Less to worry about.  You’d run into him or her one day and that would be that.  It was in all the story books.  All the romance novels.

Nowhere was searching blindly romanticized in any way.  Of course, waiting eleven years and beyond for your timer to even start counting down?  That wasn’t romanticized either.     

And sometimes, she could feel this…inexplicable pull towards Clint.  Attraction.  Lust.  Romantic feelings. 

Which was probably why she was sleeping with him.  Yeah.  Definitely why. 

She sighed and pushed open the door to the coffee shop, preparing for Wade's little "speech" about being on time and all that bullshit.  Not that he gave a shit.  It was just good-natured ribbing.  Good-natured ribbing that Darcy wasn't really in the mood for this morning. 

"Well, well, well..." his voice boomed over the sound of the coffee grinder.  The rich smell of the beans wafted all over the inside of the shop.  "Look who finally decided to drag their ass into work." 

Darcy rolled her eyes.  "I'm like..." she glanced at her watch.  "Damn.  Sorry." 

"That's right!  You're 'damn sorry' minutes late, missy." 

'Damn sorry' minutes translated to forty.  If anyone was keeping track.

"Dude.  I'm sorry.  I'll go get the pastries in the oven."  She grabbed her apron off the hook and headed back to the kitchen. 

"Already did it.  You can go take the muffins _out_ of the oven though...and you also need to mix up the cookie dough. Vanessa did the dried fruit for the oatmeal."  He grinned in the latter’s direction. 

"Thank you, Vanessa..." Darcy accepted the side hug that was proffered by the other woman. 

"You're welcome, Darce...really, it wasn't any trouble at all.  Despite what this one says..." Vanessa hip checked Wade on her way out from behind the counter.  She had a tray of flower vases that she began depositing on all the tables. 

Darcy continued on back to the kitchen.  She started beating the butter and sugar that would be the base for the cookie dough. 

Wade ducked his head inside the door.  "What up, Kiddo?  You okay?" 

"Yeah?" Darcy shrugged.  "Why wouldn't I be?" 

Wade mirrored her shrug.  "IDK...thought maybe it might have something to do with that dead weight on your wrist."

“Isn’t it always about that?” 

 "I'm just checking in, Toots.  You okay? You seem more…droopy than usual." 

She cracked an egg into the bowl in front of her.  "I'm fine, Wade." 

He sighed heavily in a way that was very un-Wade-like.  "It'd be easier if you just got rid of it, Darcy.  No more worrying."  He said it in that serious voice.  The one that he reserved for talking to the bank. 

She chucked another egg shell in the trash.  "Then I'd worry that MY soulmate would be sitting around waiting for me just like I was sitting around waiting for them." 

"If it were me?  And I was your soulmate?  And I didn't have a timer..." he shrugged. "I'd want you to move on.  You're gonna meet who you're gonna meet.  No timer doohickey is gonna change that." 

He tapped his wrist, where the scars from his timer were.  He'd gotten it surgically removed a few years back.  He'd had a soulmate and then...then the timer went blank.  And he'd gone up to get it removed.  Cursing the whole entire system because he couldn't deal with knowing it had happened. That his soulmate had passed away before they met.  Darcy flinched when she looked at the scars, remembering those days vividly.  How he'd stomped around their then-shared apartment bemoaning his very existence. 

And then he'd woken up one day, determined.  He'd started a new mantra. _"It wasn't my soulmate, because they died before we met."_  

She shrugged.  "I dunno what to do, Wade...Maybe I just don't have someone." 

His arms appeared around her, squeezing her tightly.  "If you aren't happily attached in five years, I'll attach to you." 

"What about Vanessa?" she asked, giggling when he noogied the top of her head, mussing her hair. 

"She wouldn't mind...she likes ya." He winked and took the mixing bowl from her, taking over the stirring duties and gesturing vaguely out the door with his spoon. "We're about to open. You should go take the register." 

"If she wouldn't mind, then maybe I'll just steal her from _you_..." Darcy winked and wiped her hands on a towel. 

"Hey...HEY.  Don't joke about that..."  he called after her, vigorously mixing the contents of the bowl. 

She took up residence behind the cash register as Vanessa went to go unlock the front door.  "What shouldn't you joke about?" she asked. 

"Stealing you from him." 

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows.  "Just say when and I’ll ditch that loser." 

Darcy looked down at the wood pattern on the counter in front of her, completely missing the first person in the door.  The familiar rim shot of his hands on the counter in front of her made her heart leap, though. 

She looked up abruptly, her hand flying to her chest.  “Oh my god…Clint.”    

His grin was wide and his hands were signing rapidly, first to say that he was sorry about scaring her and then to tell her about his crazy work week. 

Clint was deaf.  Not completely, but hard of hearing enough to the point where it was easier for him to use sign language in crowded places.  And for some reason, Darcy’s voice didn’t register with him more times than not.  So, she found herself picking up a book on ASL about two weeks into their relationship.  Because while it didn’t seem to bother him that she had to practically YELL to get his attention, it bothered her.  AND, he was a very patient ASL teacher. 

And pretty awesome in bed, if she was being honest. 

But there was a line of people forming behind him, which was par for the course on a Tuesday morning, and she really had to stop talking and work. 

“Text me later?  I’m off at three.”   

Clint grinned again.  “I know.  Same as always.” 

She nodded, "Yup, that’s me...what can I getcha?" she motioned behind her to the specials board, knowing full well what he'd ask for. 

"House blend.  Black. Please and thank you." 

* * *

 

Clint DID end up texting her later. To invite her to brunch in the morning with himself and a friend.  But he didn’t come over or anything, which was a big fat bummer.  She was kind of hoping for a pick-me-up and Clint Barton could definitely provide that. 

He was more than a pick-me-up guy, though.  Because while it was impossible to be in a bad mood around him, it was also impossible not to get attached.  And she was.  Attached.  If and when her timer started counting down, it was going to hurt like hell watching those seconds tick by.  Watching their time together dwindle.

She was torn when it came to Clint.  Part of her wanted to just take the plunge and do the thing.  The thing being getting her timer removed so she and Clint could have matching wrist scars where they’d been removed and matching pillows on the same bed for always. 

Clint never really explained why he’d gotten his timer removed, just that he didn’t have one anymore.  There was no sad story like Wade.  There was just a shrug.  A grin.  And a lazy, “Just didn’t want it anymore.” 

She could see having kids with him and then those kids growing up learning ASL from him and English from her and mucking their way through Italian with her grandmother.  She could see the shared apartment in the city.  Clint’s dog Lucky encroaching on Loki’s territory and knocking him down a few pegs.  Which he desperately needed. 

Darcy glanced down at the feline in question, currently purring contently in her lap. She could see all of that with Clint.  She glanced nervously down at her wrist.  At the glass of wine in her hand. At the blank timer.  Maybe Wade was right.  Maybe it was time to give up.  To start something with Clint.  To just…GO FOR IT.  She could be happy with him.  He made her happy.  Deliriously happy. 

_Oh my god.  Am I doing this?  Am I really deciding to do this?_

_-Maybe…not a decision I need to make in one day.  With three and a half glasses of Pinot Noir under my belt.  And going to my head._

She swallowed the rest of the glass and put the cork back in the bottle.  Opting for bed rather than drunk introspection. 

She had brunch the next morning with Clint and his friend Bucky, who she’d never met, but had heard about on the regular. 

Darcy didn’t think of herself as a difficult person.  She figured they’d get along alright.  They had Clint in common, anyway.  And if Clint kept him around, this Bucky fellow might be alright. 

And she could think more about getting her timer removed.  Maybe talk to Clint about it. 

She flopped down in her bed and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.  Three and a half glasses of pinot noir would do that to a person.  Her early mornings helped too.  The clock on the wall read 8: 45 p.m. when the first soft snore rose from under the big quilt on her bed.  

One other thing Pinot Noir did…as it turned out, and which became a hell of a huge issue the next day, was dull a person’s senses to the point where some things didn’t bother them.  A big cat camping in their lap for instance.  Or feelings.  Or, you know…the beep of a soulmate timer starting to countdown. 

No reason to bring that up, really.  Just…you know.  Something to keep in mind.

It wasn’t any kind of unusual night.  Darcy was snoring by nine p.m.  And her eleven-years-three-months-and twenty-six-days-dormant soulmate timer was ticking down from fifteen hours.


	2. I Don't Need a New Love or a New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from ["One Foot" by fun.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Tuyw9WBFkQ)
> 
> Sorry for the delay. Life, man. :/ Hopefully I'll be more steady with the updates from now on. Hopefully. ;)

On the morning Darcy met her soulmate, she got up on time.  Hungover, but on time.  However, she didn't go to brunch with Clint.  She hid in her bed instead.  Ran back into her room to hide.  She ignored her phone.  Ignored everything because...because...

For the first time in her life, she'd woken up that morning to a functional timer. 

Sometime after brushing her teeth and making vague groaning sounds at the sun streaming in through the window, because the sun plus a hangover equals a headache that acted like it wanted to get famous or something. (You know...famous headaches?  The ones in the pain reliever ads?).  Anyway...sometime after that, she glanced down at her timer for a split second. 

Through sheer force of habit.  That’s all it was.  She’d habitually checked the damn thing every day since she’d gotten it.  And she was so used to seeing a blank screen staring back at her that she almost couldn’t believe her eyes.  She thought maybe it was a trick of the light.  Another magical gift from the Hangover Fairy.  But nope.  After a double, triple, then QUADRUPLE take, she was convinced. 

Four hours, sixteen minutes and five seconds. 

"Oh my god..."  she held her wrist into the light that she'd been cursing only a few moments before, trying to force her eyes into focus and make sure she was indeed seeing what she thought she was seeing. 

"Oh my god..." she repeated, sitting down on the edge of the tub.  "Oh my god..."  

Loki pushed through the crack in the bathroom door and purred as he wound himself around her legs. 

"Loki...look..." she held out her wrist for her cat to see.  He sniffed at the timer and sat down to groom himself.  She rolled her eyes at both her selfish cat and herself for thinking the fussy feline would in any way understand or empathize. 

 _Four hours and sixteen...now thirteen minutes..._ she thought to herself.  It would have her meeting her soulmate at around noon.  He or she would be in the restaurant where she was going to eat brunch with Clint and his friend, Bucky. 

They were expecting her to show up.  In two hours’ time, she was supposed to show up at this restaurant.  She had to tell Clint. She had to cancel. 

She started looking around for her phone, cursing everything under the sun when she couldn’t find the damn thing.  Damn past drunk Darcy.  Damn StarkTech for making phones that blended in with her carpet and furniture so well.  Damn past idiot Darcy who hadn’t gotten this timer ripped out sooner.  Damn her fucking soulmate for choosing this precise time in her life to fucking step up and get a timer. 

Damn her soulmate. 

Her stomach rolled.  Nervous butterflies became bats as she started to panic.  The moment she had been waiting for her entire life and it came at a time when she had finally made a huge decision in favor of _herself_.  She had been entertaining the idea of removing the timer.  That much she remembered. 

And now...now, she was going to meet her soulmate in four hours.  It was going to happen. 

And...AND…

"Oh my god, I can't do this..." She got up and ran for safety.  Ran for cover.  If she didn't leave her house, she couldn't meet her soulmate, right? 

The time would pass and she'd be alone.  And then...

And then she'd break the damn system.  Go get her timer yanked out. 

She winced, holding her wrist instinctively. 

But what about her soulmate?  When their timer went blank, what would they think?  Did she owe it to them to at least meet them?  Explain that she wasn’t looking for them anymore?  That they were too late?

She groaned and hid her head under a pillow.  This was a stupid crap-hole of a situation.  That's what this was.  What kind of world existed where she made a decision to be with one person and then…BAM?  Nope?  The universe decided otherwise?  And that was that?  She had no say in the matter? 

Her heart hurt when she thought of Clint.    

Maybe she'd called its bluff.  Maybe in her drunken decision to discuss removing her timer, she'd like...kick started the universe. 

It didn't feel like a victory, that was for damn sure. 

It felt like...like deciding to remove your timer and go for it with your perfect timerless boyfriend who could find your clitoris and your g-spot in a timely manner, who came up to visit you at work every day and who put his time in and who was patient dammit…and then having your timer start the very next morning, giving you four hours-notice of the imminent breakup…

There was no other analogy.  That's how much this sucked.

The universe could get crocked.  Because she’d made her own decision.  Without ANY help from it, thank you very much.   She’d found a man who loved her.  Who made her happy.

This was _her_ decision. Not some stupid stopwatch.  It was a good decision.  She was standing by it.   

But Darcy made one small mistake in her judgement.  And that mistake involved Clint. She should have known better than to just not show up to something he’d invited her to.

In her zeal to hide from her future, she’d forgotten about her search for her phone.  About texting Clint and cancelling their plans.  As it turned out, she’d set her phone to vibrate the night before. So, by the time she realized that the odd buzzing noise under her bed was her long-lost phone, there was a knock at the door.  A loud one.  More like a bang than a knock.   

And she panicked.  Panicked because…what the hell? There were three minutes left on her timer; what if her soulmate was some lost idiot looking for their friend’s apartment? Someone with a package or a delivery of some sort? What was she THINKING, trying to hide from her fate?

She should have gone to the brunch after all.  She could be eating bacon wrapped shrimp and shitake frittatas right now.  Having a little hair of the dog in the form of a Bloody Mary and not hiding in her bed like a scaredy-cat. 

She didn't know what made her do it.  Probably the universe.  But most likely the inane fear that her neighbors would call the cops if whoever it was didn't stop banging on the door. 

She got up, spying her phone under the bed, vibrating away on the carpet with the dust bunnies.   

She grabbed it, seeing the latest text from Clint warning her that if she didn't open up, he was breaking down the door. 

Remorse flooded her.  And she ran for the door, pulling it open at once, signing how sorry she was and yanking Clint into the house with her, shutting the door and locking it.  Locking it to keep out fate.    

His hands moved rapidly. "What the hell are you doing? Why weren't you at brunch?" 

She was just about to explain when there was another knock at the door (this one was just a knock) and Clint went to open it. 

_Knock, knock.  It’s fate._

She leapt for him, grabbing his arm just in time for him to unlock it and pull it open. 

She heard her timer buzz at the same time as the other person's.  The one on the other side of the door. 

And the moment her eyes locked with his, her life became that much more complicated. 

Her soulmate...the guy on the other side of the door...was presumably Clint's friend Bucky.  He looked…hopeful and crestfallen simultaneously.  “Oh no…” He grimaced at Darcy. 

“Took the words out of my mouth…” she mumbled.   

He hung his head for a moment, before turning to Clint, his hands signing "Sorry."

And then there was Clint, who was looking between the two of them.  Flabbergasted. 

That was the look.  Flabbergasted and a little sad and something else there underneath. 

"Clint..." she reached for his hand, only to have him tug it away.  "Please..." she signed.  "I was trying to tell you...I wasn't going to go through with it.  I had all but decided last night to get rid of the damn thing...I wanted..." She shook her head.  "I want this to work.  Between you and me...I don't know him...I'm sure he's great, but..." 

Bucky caught her gaze again.  Blue eyes that pierced.  Chiseled cheekbones.  Longish brown hair that was pulled back from the nape of his neck.  A t-shirt that barely encased the rippling muscles.  Denim jacket like some kind of John Bender wannabe.    

Not that Darcy was looking. 

"I don't want to steal your girl, Clint..."  he signed.  "I shouldn't have come to the door.  I just thought maybe I'd get stuck on the elevator.  Meet someone else there.  Thought maybe your girl had someone visiting…you said her timer was dormant…I swear I didn't want this to happen..." 

Clint was looking pale.  Leaning back on the counter.  His jaw squared, his eyes dark, he signed rapidly.  "I'm not mad at either of you...I'm just...mad.  And I can't be here.  I'm sorry." 

Darcy was crying.  Tears running down her cheeks as she nodded, resigned to let him go. 

Clint turned to leave, but he looked back at her, his resolve visibly crumbling.    "Aww, Darcy...no.  Don't cry, Sweetheart..."  He held out his arms and she went to him, sobbing into his shoulder and holding onto him tightly.  So tightly.  Afraid he’d float away and she’d be left with the stranger the universe had dubbed her ‘one and only’. 

Clint coaxed her into a chair, bringing her a bottle of water while Bucky stood there awkwardly, shifting from side to side.  She blubbered on about how sorry she was.  That she hadn’t noticed the timer until she started brushing her teeth that morning. 

Clint’s hand on her shoulder was comforting.  Even if his very presence here was ripping her heart out piece by piece. 

Bucky cleared his throat.  “I’m Bucky…by the way…uh…Clint’s friend.  But you knew that…” He paused briefly, sucking his teeth.  “I’m just trying to make this less awkward, but I can’t think of a way to...” He sighed heavily.  “I just got the damn thing put in yesterday.  Last night.  I didn’t think anything was going to happen so soon…I chickened out four times before they finally got the damn thing in…”  Bucky waved his hand as he rambled on and on, going over the minutia of the decision that had brought them here.  To this hell scape of tears and heartbreak.

Clint flopped onto the couch and Darcy gestured towards the other chair across from her for Bucky. 

He sat down, probably because it was either that, or run screaming from the room.  Even though, she wouldn’t have begrudged his decision if that’s what he’d chosen to do. 

“I’ve had this thing for eleven years…” she mumbled, shaking her head.  “I didn’t think you existed.” 

Bucky opened his mouth and shut it a couple times before he answered.  “I was in the army…” 

She frowned, “Okay? And…?” 

“I didn’t get one when I was younger, my dad thought they were stupid…” he shrugged.  “I didn’t even think about getting one until…you know…” he raised his arm.   His left arm.  Darcy hadn’t noticed it before.  It was…a prosthetic. Silver glinted at the end of his jacket sleeve.  “Didn’t think I was gonna make it.  And I thought about…well…I thought about what would happen to my soulmate if I died and they never knew me.  If they had a timer and it just…never activated…”

It made her think immediately of Wade.  Of a poor soul without a mate.  A mate taken too soon.  Except worse.  A poor soul wandering, never knowing if they’d ever meet who they were meant for.    

Darcy swallowed, glancing over at Clint, who had his head buried in his hands.  Elbows on his knees.  She reached over to touch him.  He grasped her hand tightly. 

Bucky continued, “So when I got back a month ago…I made an appointment.  And chickened out…ya know.  Lather rinse repeat three times, and I finally went last night. I booked the latest appointment and slugged down a couple of beers.  Imagine my surprise when the damn thing activated.  Fifteen hours.” 

“And now you’ve met me and…” Darcy trailed off. 

“And you’re my buddy’s girl…” He shook his head.  “God…you’re even…” he gestured towards her with a pained expression.  “God, you’re perfect…” 

Her face burned and Clint dropped her hand, signing rapidly.  “She IS perfect.” 

Tears sprang to her eyes, dripping down her cheeks as she shook her head.  “No, I’m not.”  For fuck’s sake, why was she so torn when moments before, she’d been so dead-set on what she was going to do?  What happened to the universe getting crocked? 

Bucky shifted in the seat and Darcy knew just what happened.  Bucky’s thighs in those jeans happened.  His scent happened.  His soft blue eyes happened. 

And then there was Clint.  Clint with his sweet smile and his lovely hands that knew just what buttons to press and his tight muscular ass that wore those black pants so well.  How he traced out letters against her bare skin after they’d had sex.  How he always tasted like coffee and made her feel good about herself.   Clint was happening just as much as Bucky was. 

She wanted to go hide in bed again. 

“Look, I just met you…” Bucky said, signing the words so Clint could keep up.  “I’ll gladly bow out.  So long as you’re happy.  That’s…that’s all I wanted to know.  I’ll go get this thing removed and go about my business.” 

Her heart wrenched at his words.  More than she thought it would.  Like he said, they’d just met.  Her connection to him amounted to a stopwatch timer and a very, VERY superficial attraction.  Nothing more.    

But Clint was the one shaking his head.  His hands moved quickly.  “No.  No.  You’re soulmates…” he gestured between them.  “I can’t come between that.  I won’t make her as happy as you will.” 

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Darcy asked quietly.  “Don’t I get a choice here? I mean…if you guys are finished martyring yourselves.” 

Both of them nodded, clamming up and looking appropriately ashamed. 

She sniffed, “Awesome…I just…I need some time…don’t go making my decisions for me.  I just…I have to think about this…”  She eyed them both.  “I need some space.” 

On the day Darcy met her soulmate…she kicked two men out of her apartment and hid in her bed. 

And then she did what anyone would do in her situation.  She called her best friend.  She called Wade.  Because…he’d know what to do, right?    


	3. Nothin' Like Finding Gold, Within the Rocks Hard and Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from ["Kick Drum Heart" by the Avett Brothers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vlt00iCUzA)
> 
> Things are very happy in this chapter! :D Three parts, one from each of our poor little love beans. <3 
> 
> One more to go! Maybe some smut in the epilogue? I'm thinking yes?

“Okay, choose…” Wade said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why do I have to choose?  I don’t want to choose!” Darcy whined, dropping her head down on the counter in front of her. 

“Because there is no way in hell I’m making two different kinds of pancakes for you…” he replied dryly as he whisked the batter in her Pyrex mixing bowl she’d inherited from her grandmother. 

“Fine.  Blueberry…” she said, sighing heavily.  Loki meowed at her feet, in a perpetual state of annoyance because of their house guests. 

It was morning.  The third morning since her timer had gone off.  The third morning since she’d finally met her soulmate.  The third morning since her heart had been torn in two.  One half for Clint, who she’d been low-key in love with for a while, and one half for Bucky.  For her soulmate.  For the man who had the most potential for being the love of her life.  At least according to every single webpage she’d looked at on the subject.  And according to what she’d been told for her entire life. The other half of her heart needed some convincing, though. 

The pan sizzled as Wade poured the batter into it.  He was sleeping on her couch.  He’d been here since she had called him three days before.  Because he was a helluva good friend. 

“Ooo, are those pancakes?”  Vanessa asked, her voice carrying from the other room.  She entered the kitchen, toweling off her hair with one of Darcy’s towels.    

Vanessa was _not_ sleeping on her couch.  Vanessa was taking the other half of Darcy’s bed.  Because she was also a helluva good friend. 

And besides choosing blueberry pancakes over chocolate chip, Darcy hadn’t made any other decisions. 

Wade and Vanessa had listened to her debate between Clint and Bucky for most of the three days.  The consensus being that she loved Clint, but Bucky was handpicked for her by the universe and how in the hell was she supposed to choose? 

She called her mother.  Which had turned out to be a huge mistake.  Mom loved Clint.  But she was also excited at the prospect of meeting Darcy’s soulmate.  It was infuriating.  Like she already knew what Darcy was going to do. 

_“Well, maybe you met Clint so you could meet your soulmate…things do work that way, Darcy.”_

If that was true, then the universe was far shittier than Darcy had ever imagined, and she didn’t want anything to do with it _or_ its decisions

“How do they know each other?” Vanessa asked, drawing Darcy out of her reverie.  She picked a blueberry out of her pancake with her fork, squishing it onto the plate before scooping it up in her next bite.  “Like…are they close?” 

“They have brunch together.  So yeah.  I’d say they’re pretty close…” Darcy sniffed and dropped her fork into her plate.  Empty, because she couldn’t do anything but eat, apparently.  “Best friends.  I’m going to like…break up a pair of besties.” 

Wade took her plate, walking it over to the sink.  “I think what Vanessa is asking is…are they… _close?”_

“Oh…” Her eyes widened.  “I don’t know…I don’t think so?  Clint and I were exclusive.” 

“Well…depending on how close they are…and how okay they are with it…” Vanessa took a sip of her coffee. “Maybe you could broach the topic of…dating both of them?” 

It was like a light bulb had switched on in her head.  Of course!  The easiest way to choose in this situation was not to choose at all. 

She could date both of them…if they were okay with it, that is. 

It was honestly the best idea she’d heard in the past few days.  And she was more than willing to give it a try. 

* * *

 

Clint wasn’t exactly handling this well.  He was living on Natasha’s couch, staring at his phone and waiting for the text. 

The Text. 

The text that would either inform him that Darcy was ending things, or that would inform him of the place she wanted to meet him for coffee while she ended things. He couldn’t really see Darcy ending things with him over text message, so he was betting on the latter.

He loved Darcy.  It was blatantly obvious.  He’d fallen for a girl with a timer.  He’d done the thing he’d sworn up and down that he wouldn’t do.  He’d gone and done a stupid, stupid thing.    

Clint was so thankful to Natasha for not dropping an “I told you so” on him when he and Lucky had shown up at her doorstep three days before.  She’d just hugged him until he could tell her what was going on. 

And then she’d hugged him some more afterwards. 

She’d always liked Darcy.  And Darcy had liked her.  Which was a fucking miracle, if he was being honest.  Not that Natasha was difficult to get along with or anything…she was just…

Yeah, she was difficult to get along with. 

But she was his oldest friend besides—

Besides Bucky.   

Clint sat up more, letting his head bump softly against the wall behind the couch.  Lucky’s head appeared in his lap.  Dropping his leash in a not-so-subtle gesture.  Clint patted his head absently.   

As if she could read his mind, Natasha tilted her head.  “You know Bucky’s probably beating himself up for this, don’t you?” 

Clint nodded.  Because yes, he knew.  If he knew anyone, he knew Bucky.  And he knew that his best friend was blaming himself.  As if he could help it if he was Darcy’s dream guy.  The other half of her soul. 

And Clint felt like shit for cutting him out like this. 

But it was painful to look at him.  To know that Bucky would end up with Darcy…and that Clint would be left out in the cold.  He couldn’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of jealousy towards him.  And at the same time, he berated himself for feeling it.  He was wishing a life of solitude on his best friend. 

He couldn’t wish that. 

So he was torn.  Torn in two directions.  He loved both of them.    

“You should call him.  Meet up.  Get a beer or something…” Natasha offered.   

Clint shook his head, signing two words in response.  “Too soon.”

Natasha pressed her lips together and reached down to grab the leash.  “I’m gonna take Lucky for a walk, okay?” 

Clint nodded, waving his hand absently as she slipped on her shoes and attached Lucky’s leash to his collar. 

The door closed behind them and he slumped down further into the cushions. 

He barely registered the buzz of his phone, but something clicked in his brain and he quickly opened the message. 

It was from Darcy. 

_“Meet me at the coffee shop.”_

He was right, he thought with a small smile.  It was the latter after all. 

* * *

 

Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived at the coffee shop. 

Seeing Clint waiting in one of the leather backed chairs wasn’t really it, though. 

It was awkward.  Really awkward for the sixty seconds it took Darcy to see them and waltz over. 

God, Bucky couldn’t stop looking at her.  She was a vision of perfection.  Those eyes, that hair…that tiny waist, those hips.  Jesus Christ…He was being gauche and he knew it.  Checking out his buddy’s girl and practically salivating.  Wanting to sit down and talk to her.  Get to know her.  Know everything. 

But no matter what was said today, he was pulling for Clint.  He’d never seen his friend as happy as he was with Darcy.  Not with Bobbi, not with Jessica…not with anyone.  And he’d be damned if he was going to take that away from him.  He could do this; he could walk away.  It wasn’t like he and Darcy meant anything to one another, save for the bits of plastic and metal inserted into their arms. 

But that plastic and metal had marked them for each other.  And he couldn’t help but feel a deep seated longing at what a relationship with his soulmate would feel like. 

So he was kind of at an impasse.  He wanted to be with her.  He wanted Clint to be with her. 

And deep down, he knew it wasn’t up to him.  It was up to her.

And she was going to tell them.  And he wasn’t sure if he was going to laugh, cry or vomit.  He could probably do all three. 

She sat down in front of them, taking a deep breath and looking up at them both.  Geez, she looked exhausted.  Like she’d slept less than Bucky had.  And he’d barely slept. 

She started talking.  Mostly talking about what they already knew.  It was difficult to choose.  Because she loved Clint. 

She said it. 

“I love you, Clint.” 

And Clint’s eyes just lit up.  His hands signing back rapidly that he loved her too.  And Bucky felt a burst of warmth in his chest because of the way they were looking at each other.  It wasn’t hard to be happy for his friend.  He could do this. 

“But…I think…I could love you too, Bucky…I don’t know…I just have this…feeling…” her gaze caught his and he thought he was going to explode. 

His lips were moving before he could stop them.  “I think I could love you too, Doll…” 

The nickname had slipped out before he could stop it. His eyes cut over to Clint’s, only to see a wry smile on his lips as he sat back in his chair, folding his arms.  No anger.  No disgust.  Just…an almost smug smile and warmth in his gaze. 

Bucky breathed a little easier, turning his attention back to Darcy. 

“So…I just…wanted to know…” She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.  “Wanted to know if you’d be open to…me dating both of you…?”  She looked up then.  Looked petrified.  Scared.  Worried. 

Bucky knew they needed to answer quickly, so he turned towards Clint, meeting his gaze. His eyebrow quirked.  That old reassurance that they were thinking the same thing.  They were in agreement. 

Bucky turned back, nodding his head.  “Absolutely.”  

One last glance at Clint saw him agreeing, signing “Of course I’m alright with it.” 

And Darcy…she grinned.  And laughed…hiccupped and covered her mouth.  “Oh my god, REALLY? You’d be okay with it?” 

Clint signed, “Of course…he’s my best friend.  I love him too.” 

Bucky nodded, not really believing his luck.  He didn’t have to give up Darcy, he didn’t have to go on without his soulmate….and he didn’t have to go on without his best friend either.  He got both of them. 

It was truly the best of both worlds, he thought to himself as they all stood, embracing awkwardly over the coffee table. 

He was the one to break the silence.  “So…do we need to write up a schedule or something?” 

And Darcy had laughed.  Louder than was necessary, but if she was feeling anything like he was, she needed to laugh. 

“Probably…let me get my planner…”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, get that schedule worked out, guys. ;) 
> 
> Epilogue next week. Probably some smut. 90% sure there will be smut next week.


	4. Danced Until We Flat Out Fallin' Into Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Notice the rating has gone up to E. 
> 
> Because oh yes. 
> 
> Oh yes. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from ["Howling At Nothing" by Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzqmVa6n-es).

Things had started out with a nice, well-rounded and organized schedule. 

Darcy was with Clint on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Saturdays.  She was with Bucky on Wednesday through Friday, and Sunday was supposed to be her day for alone time.

Things worked out along those guidelines for about two weeks. 

And then she invited the both of them over for a black and white movie binge on Sunday. Because, get real…there was no way Darcy was going to adhere to a schedule.   

These movie nights became like tradition.  Popcorn, throw blankets, and a classic film on Netflix.  Casablanca, Night of the Living Dead, Breakfast at Tiffany’s…

While movie night was always on Sunday, usually resulting in Darcy falling asleep draped across both of her boys, other “nights” started happening too. The three of them were actually really busy.    

They had ‘Take-Out-Night’, on Mondays, where they rotated who brought the take-out and who brought the beer.  These usually coincided with ‘Board Game Night’, where the Twister mat or the Monopoly Dog got smeared with pizza or peanut sauce or wasabi…depending on who picked the food. 

‘Night-Out-Night’, where they actually went out and did things like humans, because they couldn’t just hole up in Darcy’s apartment every weekend and laugh as Loki got his proverbial feathers ruffled when Lucky tried to cuddle him.  That cat was not amused by Lucky’s repeated attempts to win him over.   

And of course, the cause of the predicament they were currently in…Poker Night.  

Poker Night had swiftly degenerated into STRIP Poker Night on this lovely Tuesday, approximately three months into their relationship, when the original schedule had long been forgotten in lieu of their much more fun schedule. 

Darcy’s bare legs were sticking to the chair, and all of her clothes save her panties and camisole were on the floor at her feet.  Specifically, her bra, which she’d taken off with a flourish last round, spinning it around her head and chucking it at Clint’s smug face. 

Of course…it was the middle of summer.  So the A/C was kicked up to the max.  Which left her with a rapidly worsening…nipple situation.  A nipple situation that was probably becoming apparent to her two poker buddies.  A nipple situation that was devaluing her poker face and bringing new meaning to the word “poker” in general. 

If they noticed, they didn’t let on. 

BUT, despite the air conditioning cooling her apartment to a balmy sixty-eight degrees, her legs were STILL sticking to the chair.  Because she had nothing in her hand.  Nada. Zip.  Caput. 

Well, scratch that.  She had an eight.  Of clubs. 

But unless both of them had hands full of shit, she wasn’t winning this round.  And the ladies or the missus were going to be on display. 

Not that they hadn’t SEEN the ladies or the missus before. 

Because they had.  Oh boy had they.  It was just…kind of the first time baring it all for both of them at the same time. 

It made her nervous.  Not “bad” nervous.  Like, the good kind of nervous when you know you’re going to get good news, it’s just…waiting for it to happen. 

Yeah.  That kind of nervous. 

“M’ callin’…” Bucky said, eyeing the both of them. 

Clint slapped down a flush. 

And Bucky had a full house. 

“We gotta even this up…” Bucky said, glancing over at Clint and holding out his hand.  “Undershirt, Bro.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows when Clint didn’t hesitate, whipping the shirt over his head to bare his chest.  His very muscular, very nice chest.

“Ditto,” he signed at Bucky, holding out his hand expectantly as Bucky dropped his cards on the table, pulling the shirt up and over his head with slow, graceful precision.  Darcy wasn’t sure what was happening, but she didn’t want to speak up and break the spell or anything. 

Because Bucky was climbing up onto the table and crawling over to Clint, depositing the shirt in his lap and that’s when it dawned on her. 

“You assholes stacked the deck.”

Clint smirked. 

“Guilty…” Bucky admitted, turning slightly to lay in front of her. “We just…wanted to surprise you…” 

“Consider me surprised.” 

“I can tell…” Bucky smiled, his hand gliding lazily up her side.  His thumb glanced over her perky nipple, sliding across the satin of her cami.  “Would it help if I apologized for stacking the deck?” 

She jolted, because Clint was standing behind her…his hands rubbing her shoulders.  She hadn’t even noticed him stand up.  She sighed into it, groaning a little when his hands moved down the front of her chest. 

“You nervous, Darce?”  Bucky asked, removing his hand to give Clint full reign of everything contained in Darcy’s satiny camisole.

“A little…” she answered truthfully. 

“If you don’t want—“ 

“Oh, I want…” she said, letting her head loll to the side so Clint could mouth at her neck.  It sent shivers up and down her spine.  “Believe me, I want.” 

Bucky smirked and reclined back onto the table.  “I’ll watch for a little bit, before I jump in…that okay?” 

She nodded, the gesture interrupted by a moan when Clint rolled her nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. 

Bucky’s idea of watching turned out to be rubbing himself in his boxer briefs.  An action which made Darcy achingly aroused.  Of course, Clint wasn’t helping with his teasing little swipes across her panties.  His fingers rubbing against the wet spot, applying the tiniest pressure to her clit.  Not enough to get her anywhere, of course, just enough to have her grunting and begging for more. 

* * *

 

The only place Clint wanted to be right then was buried deep inside her.  He was hard as a rock, tenting his boxers, and the way Bucky looked right then…well…

It wasn’t hurting anything.  And that was the truth. 

With every swipe of his fingertips over the damp crotch of her panties, he could feel her writhing in the chair.  He’d never been more jealous of an inanimate object than he was of that chair.  It was all he could do not to pick her up, sit down and pull her into his lap.  Let her hot wetness sink down over his cock and let her do her writhing there. 

Bucky had said he wanted to watch.  Wanted to watch them together.  Wanted his cock in her mouth as Clint fucked her.  Wanted to feel her moaning around him as Clint made her feel good. 

He’d been worried when Bucky brought it up, that it was going to be awkward. But it wasn’t.  Because to be honest, they were both rock hard by the end of that conversation.  Bucky was right.  This was always where they’d been headed.  Clint couldn’t think of anything else now except the three of them. 

They hadn’t asked questions.  Not about how Clint seemed to fit so well with a pair of soulmates.  Not about why he’d had his timer removed.  They didn’t ask.  Because this felt so damn right, they didn’t care anymore. 

Clint couldn’t take it anymore.  He wanted her.  She was thrusting up against his hand, trying to get more friction.  Bucky was rubbing up and down his length there on the tabletop.  Laid out like a feast or something. 

He coaxed her up to stand and tugged down on his boxers.  He grappled with his jeans that he’d discarded on the floor, fumbling for the condom he’d had in his pocket. He finally opened it and rolled it down over his dick.  He plopped down in the chair and silently prayed that Darcy’s old furniture would hold up to their shenanigans.  He went to tug down her panties, but she was already kicking them off, spreading her legs apart for him. 

God, he loved her. 

Her hands were on her breasts, plucking at her nipples through the satin camisole.  He slid two fingers between her legs, moaning when he felt how wet she was.  She was drenched.  Soaked.  His fingers slid up inside her easily and her legs quivered as he wriggled them around.  He pulled them out, placing both hands on her hips and tugging her down in his lap. 

She ground against his cock, getting him all slippery with her arousal.  The sight was making Bucky’s hand speed up. 

Darcy reached between her legs and grabbed him, lining him up and sinking down on top of him.  She shuddered. She sighed deeply.  He felt the reverberations of her moan as her hips met his lap. 

His mouth formed the word, “Fuck…” and her walls squeezed him when she heard it. 

His hand inched around her waist and down between her legs to rub at her clit. 

And then her hips started moving.  Writhing.  God, she felt so good. 

* * *

 

His cock was rock hard in his hand.  Bucky watched Darcy quiver with pleasure as Clint rubbed the tiny bundle of nerves between her legs.  Her fingers tweaked her nipples through her top and he couldn’t stop looking at where they were joined. 

Christ…they were beautiful. 

Fucking beautiful. 

Her hands reached for him.  “Please…” she whispered.  “Bucky…please…” 

He sat up, felt her pulling down his briefs, felt her hand replace his.  And then felt her mouth replace her hand. 

“Jesus…” he swore as she moaned around him.  Incoherent sounds of pleasure.  Her head bobbed up and down in his lap and she worked her magic with that mouth of hers.  Wet, sloppy, lots of tongue…fuck, she was amazing. 

He was close already from playing with himself earlier, but he decided to try to hold out as long as he could.  Only come after they had. 

Which, judging by the sounds she was making, by the sounds CLINT was making, that it wouldn’t be long. 

Her hips moved erratically in Clint’s lap, the wet sounds of their sex were nearly drowned out by Darcy’s muffled moaning and Clint’s grunts as her hips hit his.

Her whole body shuddered, undoubtedly squeezing Clint inside her as she came.  Hard, from the looks of it.  Her moans were muffled around Bucky’s cock and Clint’s eyes were closed as his hand worked her through her orgasm.    

Clint groaned, squeezing her hip erratically, which Bucky took to be a signal that he was close. His hunch was proven correct as Darcy at once sped up, causing Clint to stiffen and to thrust up into her. 

Bucky didn’t see what happened afterwards, because his own orgasm snuck up on him.  He warned Darcy in time for her to pull back, gasping open mouthed as his come hit her face and neck.

He couldn’t speak for a few moments, so he just leaned back on the table.  His hands sliding on poker chips and cards that had gotten strewn everywhere in their hurry to get to the main event.  He fumbled for the stack of napkins, using one to clean her off so she didn’t look so thoroughly debauched. 

Darcy licked her lips and smiled up at him.  “So tell me, fellas…why haven’t we been doing this all along?  Seems like a major time saver…”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (For real, Darce.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos? Please? (Think of the muses) ;)


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